Appearances Are Deceiving
by lasmn
Summary: White hair, red eyes...He knew he looked odd...He knew others doubted him...But he was still the mighty Prussia! LONG ONE-SHOT BUT WORTH IT! COMPLETED!


Well, here it is! One of the one-shots I thought up during the interval between chapters of my other Hetalia story, World Aides Association. This story was inspired by the last chapter of gypsywriter135's story, which is called Untitled.

By the way, in this story, I don't refer to Prussia's bird as "Gilbird", only because it isn't an official name for the bird and I try to make things as accurate to the original story as possible. I did a lot more research than I intended for this story. Most of the research was to double check dates, policies, and people and make sure nothing clashed with a wrong date. I hope you all like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters…Not even Prussia…Sniff…But I am gladly surrendering ownership of the assholes who show up in this tale! I'd also like to apologize in advance if I screwed up on some of my historical info. I tried my best to get it right but I _am_ only human.

* * *

><p>A young boy, appearing to be about eight or nine years of age, walked down the road towards a nearby village. He wore white pants and a white tunic with a symbol of a black cross on it. He also wore a cloak that had that same cross on it. His hair was a darker shade of white than his clothes, almost silver. His dark red eyes held a mischievous glow. He walked with an air of arrogance, a small yellow bird flying near his head.<p>

Who was this boy…? Why, they called him the personification of the Teutonic Knights.

Teutonic Knights, along with the yellow bird who accompanied him, walked into the village in search of a little respite. After all, he had just dealt with learning that Hungary, whom he always had fights with, was a girl…And he had groped her…

God, he needed a break from everything…

"So, what should the awesome me do today?" he wondered aloud as he glanced about the humble village.

The little bird chirped in response.

"I'm bored!" Teutonic Knights groaned, even though he had only been in the village for less than five minutes.

While he grumbled about what to do, he didn't notice the looks he was getting from the villagers. Some had covered their mouths in horror, others shaking their heads in pity.

Teutonic Knights stopped as a ball rolled to a stop in front of him. He grinned as he picked it up. After all, it wasn't every day that a peasant village such as this one had balls to play with.

"Excuse me, can I have that back?" a little voice asked.

Teutonic Knights glanced up to see a little girl, around his physical age, before him. The girl was smiling until she took a good look at his appearance.

"Hey, what're you playing?" Teutonic Knights asked excitedly, "Kesesesese! Maybe I'll grace you with my awesome presence."

The conceited smirk on his face shrunk as the girl seemed to cower before him. Before he could ask what's wrong, an older woman, presumably the girl's mother, grabbed the child's hand and pulled her away.

"Come, child," the woman said in a hushed voice, "We must distance ourselves from that…_thing_…"

"Don't you want your ball back?" Teutonic Knights called out, only to be met with silence.

He put the ball on the ground so that the girl could pick it up later. As he did, he became aware at the stares he was getting from the other villagers.

"What are all you looking at?" he asked them, bringing back his confident attitude, "Are you amazed by how great I am?"

His words were only met with glares and whispers. Teutonic Knights scowled at them. What was their _problem_? Was he too awesome for their brains to handle?

"This sucks…I'm leaving."

Teutonic Knights turned around and headed out of the village, his bird now riding on his shoulder. As he passed through, he overheard some of the conversations the villagers were having.

"He wears the clothes of the Teutonic Knights but _look_ at him!"

"How can a child so young have such white hair?"

"Those eyes…Like the eyes of the Devil himself…"

Teutonic Knights walked a little faster, trying to get as far away from the village as quickly as he could. While he walked, he passed by a small pond. He couldn't help but stop and stare at the reflection on the water.

He wasn't stupid…He knew he looked different from everyone else…

He ran a small hand through his hair, staring back at the red eyes in the reflection. His little bird, who seemed to sense his master's mood, nuzzled against his cheek.

"Huh?" Teutonic Knights said, snapped out of his trance by the feel of the soft feathers, "Oh, it's you! What're you so down about? Kesesesese! Those people _wish_ they could look this good!"

Teutonic Knights seemed happier and marched back to where his fellow crusaders were set up. He thought about those people's faces for a moment before vowing that the next time they saw him, they would be too awed by him to feel disgusted. They would kneel before his might!

Soon, Teutonic Knights underwent a name change…He became known as Prussia…

* * *

><p>Contrary to what the other personifications thought, Prussia <em>wasn't<em> surprised by the German Revolution back in 1918. Sure, he was highly confident about his strength and his reach in Europe. He believed that the empire he had worked so hard to create would last forever, because he was just that damn amazing.

But, when William II was abdicated and his nation turned into a Free State under the Weimar Republic, no, Prussia wasn't shocked.

That didn't mean he wasn't _upset_…

It had been bad enough that much of the territory that was lost thanks to the Treaty of Versailles was his own. He was on the verge of a full out tantrum when the German government considered shrinking his territory even _**more**_. But, thankfully, they simply settled for turning him into a republic.

Not that he wasn't awesome anymore, mind you. He happened to be the largest state in the Weimar Republic, so he was still cool!

Anyways, that was beside the point. Here he was, in the center of Berlin in 1931, walking down a street with his younger brother, the personification of Germany.

"Hey, West," Prussia said, breathing in the autumn air, "Why am I here again?"

"I already told you, Bruder," Germany said with a sigh, "I had told Herr Hitler about you one day and he insisted on seeing you in person."

"Why are you even listening to that guy?" Prussia asked, "He's not your boss."

"He might as well be with how quickly his party is rising in power. He is the man who is trying to change my country for the better…He will help us become great again."

"Not as great as me though."

Germany sighed…Sometimes his brother's ego really got to him…

"You should look happier, Bruder," Germany said, noticing Prussia's scowl, "Herr Hitler thinks very highly of you. It was a book on your war with France that inspired him."

As Germany had expected, Prussia visibly brightened upon hearing those words.

"Well, of course it was my own conquests that amazed him," Prussia gloated, "After all, the awesome Prussia is one to be praised…"

Germany rolled his eyes in secret as they neared the compound where Hitler would be awaiting them. Hitler had told Germany how he would be with Himmler, taking a look at some of the new recruits of the Schutzstaffel, or SS as they were also known as.

The brothers approached a large building where a line of young men in crisp black uniforms stood at attention. They approached the men, glancing around for any sign of Hitler.

"Herr Hitler must be inside," Germany said, glancing down the line, "Herr Himmler is just down there though. Introduce yourself to him while I'm gone, okay, Bruder?"

"Whatever," Prussia responded.

"Bruder, please don't cause trouble…"

"Oh, relax, West! Geez!"

As his brother walked off, Germany couldn't help but worry. Not so much for how Prussia would act around such an important figure…No, it was something else…

Heinrich Himmler was correcting one of his men's posture when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a man in uniform approach. He turned to greet the man, when he took note of his hair and eyes.

"Hello, sir," Prussia greeted with a salute, acting on his best behavior. He extended a hand and added in a softer tone so that the nearby SS recruits couldn't hear, "I am the personification of the Free State of Prussia. My younger bruder has told you and Herr Hitler about me, correct?"

"Not enough," Himmler said lowly, not taking the hand, "…This is not a joke, correct? Your brother isn't trying to be funny, is he? Because I am not amused…"

"No, sir," Prussia replied lowering his hand and frowning slightly, "I really am Prussia…"

"I see…If you will excuse me, I must talk with Herr Hitler…"

With the slightest of nods, Himmler marched past Prussia while telling the SS recruits to be at ease. Prussia followed the retreating figure with his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

_What was __**that**__ about? _Prussia wondered.

Deciding he'd ask Germany about Himmler later, Prussia reached into his coat and extracted his yellow bird, who had been his faithful companion through everything.

"You were nice and warm, right?" Prussia asked, petting the bird's head with a finger, "Sorry for bringing you out here but I know you're awesome enough to handle this weather, right? Kesesesese!"

The bird chirped in response, as if agreeing with him.

"Hey, you!"

Prussia turned, a little ticked at being referred to as "you". He saw a group of the SS recruits had approached him, all wearing serious expressions. Prussia couldn't help but recall seeing those same expressions elsewhere…At a village, many, many years ago…

"You speak German well," the tallest of the group said to him, "Too bad that you don't look the part."

"What's that supposed to mean…?" Prussia asked, trying to keep his voice level as he placed his bird back into his coat for protection.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, as all this was going on, Germany had located Hitler, going over some books in his office. Germany greeted the man with a salute.<p>

"Herr Hitler, I've brought along my older bruder, as I promised," Germany said.

"Ah, excellent!" Hitler said, looking a bit excited, "You have no idea how much the military strategies of the Prussian Empire have helped me, Germany. In fact, if it weren't for your bruder's military might, I might not have been interested in such things…"

"Yes, sir," Germany replied, "Though I recommend you not say that directly to him. Bruder has quite the ego. The slightest compliment can make him brag for hours…"

"I don't blame him," Hitler said with a laugh, "His country has fared well for many centuries. It's a shame that his territory has shrunken but I trust, from what you've told me about him, he is doing well."

Germany smiled softly and nodded. While he'd never say it aloud, he was indeed impressed by how well his brother was handling the changes going on in his land. Prussia may act arrogant and immature but the man was serious when it came to how his nation fared.

"I've been told that the Nazi Party is rather popular in Prussia," Hitler said, "Has your bruder made any mention about that."

"Not to me, sir," Germany said, lying through his teeth.

Prussia had indeed mentioned the popularity of the Nazi Party, particularly out east and in the industrial areas of his nation. The main thing he brought up was how he was getting concerned about his government and how it was run.

Germany hoped that, based on Hitler's interest in Prussia, the two would get along. He wished that Hitler's admiration for the nation would allow him to overlook Prussia's…_unique_…appearance.

Both Germany and Hitler turned at the sound of the door opening, only to be met by Himmler, offering a salute, which they both returned. Himmler looked displeased.

_I thought Bruder would be talking with him…_Germany thought, though he suspected something would happen. _What's he doing then?_

"Herr Hitler, the Prussian personification has arrived," Himmler said, shooting Germany a glance.

"Yes, I've heard!" Hitler replied, "I was on my way to meet him."

"If you'd like, you can spot him from the window," Himmler said, urging Hitler towards the window overlooking the street.

Germany followed close behind, trying to remain stoic. The three men glanced outside.

_Scheiße! _Germany exclaimed in his head, surprised that he kept his jaw from dropping open in shock.

There was Prussia, surrounded by a large number of the SS members, obviously engaging in a verbal war with them. He was right up in the face of one tall blond. Germany could tell that Prussia was a few wrong words away from starting a brawl in the middle of the street with about twenty other men.

"I don't see the Prussian personification, Herr Himmler," Hitler said, "But what is that abomination doing? How dare he try to fight with the Schutzstaffel!"

"…That abomination _is_ the personification…" Himmler answered.

Hitler looked at Himmler, trying to hide the shock on his face. Himmler looked back seriously. He was not one to make jokes over something like this. Both men turned to glare at Germany, who grew nervous under the two's cold gazes.

"_**That**_ is your bruder, Germany?" Hitler asked softly, "_That white haired creature is actually the personification of the mighty Prussia_?"

"Yes, Herr Hitler," Germany replied calmly, quelling the beginning of the anger building within him over Prussia being referred to as a "creature" and an "abomination".

"And when were you going to inform us about his appearance, Germany?" Himmler questioned.

"With all due respect, I realize he doesn't look as one would expect him to, however, other than that, he is still the same man I have told you about."

"How?" Hitler said with a trace of a growl in his voice, "How can the personification of a _powerful __**Germanic**__ country_ look like _that_?"

"Herr Hitler-"

"Come, Herr Himmler," Hitler interrupted, "Let us confront this **'man'** before he contaminates one of our recruits…"

The two stormed out of the room, Germany following close behind, regretting having ever brought up that he and Prussia were brothers.

* * *

><p>"You are <em>really<em> looking for an ass kicking, aren't you, boy?" Prussia growled as he glared into the eyes of the SS recruit who had been taunting him the whole time.

"Why don't you just admit it?" the recruit answered as his comrades gather closer, "No one of _pure_ Germanic blood would look like you do…"

Prussia suddenly grasped the front of the man's suit in one hand and raised his fist, ready to knock that smug look off the jerk's face.

"ACHTUNG!"

The SS members scrambled back into line, the one who had been taunting Prussia ripping himself from the nation's grasp to get in place. Prussia looked over to see who had arrived.

There was Germany, wearing a worried expression, and that Himmler character, looking so serious and…

"Ah…" Prussia said.

He had seen too many images of the man not to recognize him…Him and that angry glare he wore.

Adolf Hitler had made his appearance at last.

While he was still brooding from the argument, Prussia remembered to salute. He noted, though, that Hitler did not salute back. In fact, he looked down right ashamed to be near him. It was strange. Hadn't Germany told him only a little while ago that the man was excited to meet him?

Hitler stopped a foot away from Prussia, eyeing him from head to toe. Prussia couldn't stop the involuntary twitch of annoyance his eye was doing.

"The personification of Prussia, huh?" Hitler stated, remembering to speak softly enough so as not to admit Prussia's identity to the SS.

"That is correct," Prussia replied.

Hitler made a noise of disgust.

"How could this happen?" he wondered aloud, "You are supposed to be the epitome of Germanic supremacy."

"I have Germanic blood flowing through me," Prussia said defiantly, "I am Prussian and I'm proud."

"Friedrich, come here!" Hitler ordered one of the recruits, the same one who had given Prussia a hard time, over to his side.

Hitler also motioned for Germany to join him and stand on his other side, which he did reluctantly, not meeting Prussia's gaze.

"See these two?" Hitler asked, "Both of them are tall. They are slim but have prominent muscles. They are pale, but not like you…They are intelligent. They are perfectly healthy."

"Observe their straight blond hair," Himmler added, "Those blue eyes! It is proof that their blood is not contaminated by subhuman creatures. They are prime examples of the Aryan race."

Friedrich looked smug at having been praised while Germany looked as though he wished to be anywhere but where he was. Prussia gave the men a wicked grin and walked up to Friedrich, sizing him up.

"So, what you're saying is that this is it!" Prussia said to Hitler, who was appalled at being addressed by the strange looking personification, "This is what the perfect human looks like…"

"Of course!" Hitler replied.

Prussia nodded thoughtfully before delivering a swift punch to Friedrich's stomach. He stepped back as the SS recruit clutched his stomach and dropped to his knees, moaning in pain. The rest of the recruits, Hitler, Himmler, even Germany looked on in disbelief.

"Mr. Perfect needs to learn how to take a punch."

With that, Prussia stormed off quickly. Germany hastily saluted his superiors and went off after his brother.

"Bruder!" Germany yelled as they got farther and farther away, "Bruder, wait-"

"Get rid of him."

Germany halted, puzzled by his brother's words. Prussia turned to face him, an anger burning in his eyes that Germany had never seen before.

"Wh-what?" Germany replied.

"You heard me, West," Prussia said, "Talk with your superiors or something. I don't care! But you've got to get rid of that man…"

"What are you saying, Bruder? Herr Hitler is going to help our-"

"_Help us_? How is looking down on those that don't fit his view of perfect going to help?"

"I realize his views are questionable, but-"

"I don't care what he says! I've battled people who weren't 'purely Germanic' and they were some of the finest warriors I've faced!"

Prussia stepped closer to Germany.

"Listen to me, West…I've been around longer than you, I know what I'm talking about. That man is bad news. He'll only bring about the end."

"The end, Bruder?" Germany repeated.

"Of you. Of me. Of any nation who gets in his way…Don't argue!" Prussia said when Germany opened his mouth to contradict his claims, "Don't think for a second a man like that will be happy with ruling only one or two nations…He'll only be trouble, West."

Having said all he wanted to, Prussia resumed walking, leaving Germany behind. Prussia reached inside his coat to retrieve his bird. He placed him on his shoulder.

"You agree with me, right?" Prussia said, the bird chirping back, "Of course you do. You're cool like that."

Prussia walked down the streets of the town, trying to blow off steam by muttering lowly. He passed by a group of shop windows and stopped when he saw his image reflected.

White hair…Red eyes…Not normal…not normal…

"Kesesesese!" he laughed, "They're still just jealous of my awesomeness!"

* * *

><p>The date was July 20th, 1932…<p>

Prussia burst through the doors of the Prussian Parliament building. He stormed through the halls, fury on his face. Anyone in his path knew to get out of the way of the furious young man.

_Scheiße! _Prussia thought as he searched for **that man**. _How the hell did this happen?_

There was no time for Prussia to wonder about the causes of this disaster as he saw the man he had been looking for right up ahead…

Reichskanzler Franz von Papen…

"Reichskanzler!" Prussia yelled, not even bothering to salute.

Papen looked up but didn't seem too surprised or worried as the Prussian personification came barreling towards him.

"_**Why didn't anyone tell me**_?" Prussia hissed as he stopped in front of the man.

"Tell you what, Prussia?" Papen asked casually.

"Don't give me that," Prussia said with anger, "I want to know why I only found out _one hour ago_ that you _**dismissed my government's entire cabinet**_!"

"You are mistaken," Papen said, unphased by Prussia's shouting, "It wasn't I but Reichspräsident Paul von Hindenburg who gave the emergency decree."

Papen attempted to walk away, only for Prussia to stand in front of him.

"That's bull!" he said, "It's no secret that the Reichspräsident is going senile! And _you're_ the one who keeps on manipulating him so that you can stick your fingers in my territory!"

"It is wise to have proof before you go accusing people of things, Prussia…" Papen said coldly, "And should you really be placing the blame on me for this? Don't tell me you've already forgotten your failure on Sunday, in Altona?"

Prussia flinched at the mention of that name but continued to glare at Papen.

"You're saying that Altona is the reason behind this?" he asked.

"I'm saying that your government obviously cannot quell violence and it would be criminal to leave you to fend for yourselves."

Papen tried to leave once more, only for Prussia to grab him by the arm. Prussia was crossing many lines, not only by touching the Reichskanzler but by arguing with him in the first place.

He didn't care…

"That's funny," Prussia said, though he was far from laughing, "So, just because I didn't stop the violence in time on Sunday, you're taking away my cabinet and putting yourself in charge…You sure it has _nothing_ to do with the fact that the Free State of Prussia is the last major republic who is against you?"

Prussia felt Papen's arm tense.

"Oh wait, maybe it has to do with the fact that putting you in charge means that you control the Prussian police force? Not to brag, but we _are_ infamously strong…"

The arm tensed again.

"Or maybe it's because you and your cronies _**hate**_ the democratic nature of my nation…You would rather have a dictatorship, right, Reichskanzler?"

Papen ripped his arm out of Prussia's grasp.

"It is Reichskommissar now," he said darkly.

As Papen walked off, he stopped for a moment and turned to look at Prussia. His gaze was nearly one of pity.

"How far the mighty Prussia has fallen…"

Prussia clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He knew it…He knew something like this could happen…

So why hadn't he been able to stop it?

* * *

><p>In October of 1932, it was ruled that the cabinet would maintain the right to represent Prussia in government. But that didn't matter…Papen still got to be in charge.<p>

Preußenschlag, they called it…The Prussian coup…What a fitting term for the moment that spelled the end…

* * *

><p>By 1933, the Nazi Party had gotten control of the Prussian government, which was stripped of any real power…<p>

By 1935, reorganization had weakened Prussia politically to the point of no return…

Prussia could only watch and be forced to take part in the war as it all happened. He still maintained his cocky attitude because that was all that was keeping him from speaking about the future.

But it was obvious…Far too obvious…

The country of Prussia was dying…

* * *

><p>Prussia sat quietly in one of the large rooms of the Kammergericht, the headquarters of the Allied Control Council, on February 25th, 1947. It had been less than a year since he had to watch part of his former home go to Poland, while the other part, him included, went with Russia.<p>

Germany sat beside him, tired and worn from the war. Had things gone differently, even in the slightest, Prussia would've been tempted to say "I told you so".

Instead, Prussia looked up to see the human representatives of the Allied Control Council clarifying some paperwork. Behind them were the personifications of America, England, Russia and France. All of them, even Russia, looked like they would be sick.

Prussia had a feeling he knew why…He wasn't as stupid as everyone thought…

Everyone stood as the representative of the United States approached the microphone.

"It shall stand, under Law 46, that as of today, February 25th, 1947, the Free State of Prussia is officially dissolved…Thank you for having come out today…"

Prussia let out a breath and unclenched his hands. He gave the slightest of nods towards the Council. He also gave his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder.

With that, Prussia left the room. No one called out to him. No one stopped him.

No one even looked at him.

_How far the mighty Prussia has fallen_…Papen's words echoed through his head…

All that work…Centuries of battles, conquests…Laughter, pain…All he had done, all he was…

Over.

For the first time since Old Man Fritz's death, Prussia wept…

* * *

><p>It was the summer of 2011, and the past was the past…<p>

Prussia had faced many trials living in Russia's home, especially when that Berlin Wall went up. But that had been over for many years now…

Prussia found himself rooming with his brother nowadays.

"It's not rooming when you do nothing but lounge around in the basement, Bruder," Germany said as the two walked about outside, enjoying the warm sun, "That's freeloading…"

"C'mon, West!" Prussia said with a laugh, clapping his brother on the back, "You should feel honored to have the awesome Prussia living under the same roof as you! I am the life of the party after all."

Prussia grinned as his little yellow bird landed on his shoulder, chirping away.

"I know, right?" Prussia said as he petted the bird, "My poor bruder has no idea what he has, does he?"

Germany resisted the urge to punch his brother as the pair headed into a nearby park.

"Hey, West, check it out!" Prussia exclaimed, gesturing over to a group of men around a table, "Looks like an arm wrestling contest. Wanna participate with me?"

"I'd rather not," Germany replied, "It seems silly…"

"Oh, you're never any fun!" Prussia said as he walked over, "Step aside, boys! The king has arrived to kick your asses!"

Germany put a hand to his head but couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's enthusiasm over the smallest of things.

"Hey, you there!"

Germany turned to see a man with light brown hair and blue eyes, only a few inches taller than him and possibly in his early thirties, heading his way. A few companions followed closely behind. Germany was a little on edge.

"Hello there," he said calmly as the men came up to him.

"You look like an upstanding German citizen, young man," the supposed leader of the bunch said.

"…You can say that…"

"I am Bastian. What's your name?"

"…Ludwig…" Germany said, using the codename that he was listed under on every single official record.

"Ludwig, huh?" Bastian repeated, as if he was testing out the name, "Yes, a proper German name."

Germany saw the man look past him. He followed his gaze to see Prussia, busy arm wrestling a man twice his size.

"That boy was with you…" Bastian said, "Who is he?"

"His name is Gilbert," Germany said, using Prussia's codename.

He did not like where this was going…

"Gilbert," Bastian stated, "German but not purely German. And those looks…It explains a lot."

Germany tensed up at the man's words, memories of the 20's to the 40's racing through his mind.

"Explains what, exactly?" Germany asked carefully.

Bastian gave Germany a look of sympathy, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was out of basic decency that Germany didn't swat the hand off.

"It's okay to say what you're thinking, Ludwig," he said, as if he knew where Germany's thoughts lay, "…That boy is inferior…"

Germany took a step back from the man and his group, fixing them a hard glare.

"You're Neo-Nazis," Germany said, certain of it.

Germany had hoped beyond hope that, after World War II had ended and Hitler had committed suicide, he would never have to deal with the Nazi Party ever again.

But a group like the Nazis wouldn't be silenced so easily, even with the laws in place.

The Neo-Nazis weren't as powerful as the originals but they had a decent following all over the world. They engaged in all sorts of violent acts.

Germany was still haunted by visions of 1993, when the house of a Turkish family was set on fire…He could remember carrying out the body of those young women…The resulting riots following that attack had given him even more to deal with.

"You say that as though it is a horrid thing, Ludwig," Bastian said, snapping Germany out of his memories.

"Some groups of Neo-Nazis have committed terrible crimes. They act similarly to terrorists. Is your group violent…?" Germany asked in a dark tone. He received no answer, "I thought so…"

"It's for the sake of the master race!" Bastian insisted, "What use is the dirty subhuman filth of the world? We are simply cleansing humanity so that pure Germanic people can live peacefully."

Germany didn't know what sickened him more. The fact that Bastian talked so casually of ethnic cleansing…Or the fact that his young friends were nodding along, as though this was an obvious answer to life's problems…

"And Gilbert is subhuman filth as well?" Germany asked, "He has pure Germanic blood flowing through him. He is a descendant of Prussians."

"A descendant of Prussians?" one of Bastian's friends said, "Man, that's a laugh!"

Germany raised an eyebrow at this. These guys didn't like Prussia?

"What's wrong with Prussia?" he wondered, "Hitler himself was fond of Prussian military strategies."

"Yeah, that was the only mistake he made," another of the boys said, "He respected an empire that was cut down so badly after the wars. Some great kingdom."

"The Prussian Empire was still an imposing force," Germany stated, on the verge of losing his temper, "Say what you will about its fate, but it was still strong."

"So you say," Bastian said with a laugh, "But really, Ludwig…How truly great and mighty is a country that disappeared because of a piece of paper?"

Okay, now Germany _knew_ he couldn't fight the men…He may end up committing murder if he did. Or, at the very least, cause severe injuries…

"That's beside the point, though," Bastian continued, "I mean, look at the guy! Anyone would think someone with white hair and red eyes is a freak. Why do you think it's so popular to portray the villains of movies like that?"

Germany kept his mouth shut, lest he did something he'd regret…

"Well, here's a flyer," Bastian said as he stuffed the paper into Germany's hand, "We're doing a week-end long training session to introduce new members…I hope to see you there, Ludwig. A strong man like you will fit in just fine…"

Just like that, the group walked off. Germany clenched the paper in his hand tightly…

"Hey, West!"

Germany snapped his head towards Prussia's loud voice. The so-called "freak" was happily carrying a six pack of beer.

"Man, you should've seen their faces, West!" Prussia said, lifting the six pack up to Germany's eye level, "They never saw it coming! I'm _that_ great after all! Kesesesese!"

Germany smiled half-heartedly as Prussia chattered about the beer he won and how his bird had provided him such great moral support during the contest.

"So, who were those guys?" Prussia asked after a minute.

"…What guys?" Germany replied.

Prussia lightly punched the man's shoulder.

"I'm not an idiot, West…I saw you guys looking over at me. So, what happened?"

Germany couldn't lie to Prussia. He also refused to sugarcoat anything those men had said as he explained the discussion to Prussia on their walk home.

"Man, like old times, huh?" Prussia said.

"Too much like old times…" Germany said.

"But what the hell?" Prussia yelled suddenly, "Those losers _dare_ diss the mighty _**Prussia**_? Those tough guy wannabes think I'm _nothing_? I was killing guys, conquering lands and taking names back when their great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-"

"Bruder…"

"Great-great-great-great-great grandparents were still in diapers! And what the hell is that flyer?"

Prussia ripped it out of Germany's hand and looked it over.

"Those guys invited me to some meeting they're having," Germany explained, "A training session that'll last all week-end. I can't believe they couldn't tell I wasn't-Bruder?"

Prussia was gritting his teeth and shaking as he stared at the flyer in his hand.

"My mark…" he said softly.

"What?"

Prussia thrust the flyer in Germany's face, specifically the section of the flyer that showed this Neo-Nazi group's symbol.

"Those are _my_ national colors!" Prussia yelled, "That's the _Prussian_ eagle! That's practically my flag they're using!"

"Of course, Bruder," Germany said, shoving the paper off his face, "Blatant Nazi propaganda is illegal. The Reichskriegsflagge was one of the old symbols before the swastika came about so it's legal to use…"

"Oh, great! So they're _okay_ with mocking my nation and calling me weak! But when it comes to peddling their little camp, they wanna use _my_ symbol and colors?"

Prussia started walking briskly.

"Hurry up, West!" he yelled, not slowing down, "I'm pissed off and I need to do something about it!"

Germany ran after his brother, hoping Prussia knew what he was doing…

* * *

><p>Later that night, in a camping ground a few miles away, Bastian and his group of thirty Neo-Nazis were greeting ten people who had been interested in joining.<p>

Bastian waited as long as he could but Ludwig didn't show. He assumed the man, although a perfect example of the Aryan race, just didn't love his culture and land enough. It was such a shame…

"Hey is this the camp thing I've heard about?"

Bastian and the rest of the group turned to see a slim young man in baggy jeans and wearing a loose black hoodie with the hood up and dark sunglasses. He carried a green backpack over his shoulder.

"Who are you?" Bastian asked as he and a couple of the senior members walked toward the strange boy, "I don't remember recruiting you…"

"Oh, I saw a flyer on the ground," the man replied, "Sounded pretty interesting so I thought I'd join up."

"So, who _are_ you?" Bastian asked again.

"The name's Gilbert Beilschmidt!" the man replied cheerfully.

"I thought so…I recognize that voice…_Thought you could sneak into our group, you creep_?"

Bastian ripped off the sunglasses and threw back the hood. He did not expect to see the golden hair or the brilliant blue eyes that stared back at him.

"Geez, what's _with_ you?" Gilbert asked, snatching back his shades.

"S-sorry," Bastian replied, "I just thought you-Never mind…So, you want to join up, huh?"

"Yeah," Gilbert replied, ignoring the chuckles of the others who saw how slim he was compared to the rest of them, "Man, we don't need all that garbage mucking up our air…We of the Germanic race have more pride than that."

"Well said," Bastian said, throwing an arm around Gilbert's shoulder and guiding him to sit on the logs by the fire.

"Well, the purpose of this week-end is to get you all used to the work you'll be doing if you're serious about this group," another senior Neo-Nazi said, "But let it be clear that this is only a small taste of what you'll be going through…We'll be giving you guys hell while you're here…But for tonight, go to your assigned cabin and sleep. We have an early start tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Gilbert waited until his three other cabin mates were fast asleep before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a mini flashlight. Turning it on, he held it in his teeth as he pulled out a book and pen. Gilbert directed the light towards the book and began writing.<p>

_Hey, Diary._

_Operation: Total Ultimate Revenge On The Sissy Man-Boys…_

_Mission Start!_

"Kesesesese!" he laughed softly as he shut off the light.

* * *

><p>The next morning, the sun had not even fully risen when the door to the cabin burst open and a rough voice yelled for everyone to wake up and get dressed.<p>

The cabin occupants were all startled from a deep slumber and gazed around drowsily as the owner of the rough voice shook them roughly and ripped off their blankets.

As this went on, Prussia, after secretly slipping the blue colored contacts into his eyes, jumped out of bed and dressed with speed that would put a cheetah to shame.

Hey, constant, unpredictable warfare gave you some skills…

By the time the other cabin members were coordinated enough to start putting on clothes, Prussia grabbed his toothbrush and left, leaving the others to stare after him in awe and envy.

"At least _someone_ here understands the meaning of 'Move it'!" the man with the rough voice yelled at the remaining cabin members.

Prussia smirked as he heard that.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, a heavy rain had started. Nevertheless, Bastian had told the new recruits to meet him and the rest of the group outside.<p>

No umbrellas, no sweatshirts, no hoods…

The eleven newbies stood, already drenched after thirty seconds, their thin t-shirts clinging to their bodies.

"Are you all cold?" Bastian asked as he walked up and down the line of recruits, soaked but wearing a thick hoodie, "Well, too bad! You have to be tough! And disciplined!"

He stopped in front of Prussia, who was standing and smiling as though all was right with the world.

"What're you so happy about, Beilschmidt?" he asked.

"Just remembering!" Prussia replied happily, "I haven't seen rain this bad since that one time I went up against that Russian nutjob…Ah, good times…I was freakin' _awesome_ that day!"

He was also glad that the rain hadn't washed out the hair dye he was using.

"…You need more discipline in you," Bastian said, "But, at least Beilschmidt understands that he cannot let something like rain get him down!"

"Kiss up," the recruit next to Prussia muttered as Bastian walked away.

"What was that?" Prussia asked, "Couldn't hear you over the sound of my awesomeness…"

"As if you fought a Russian…"

"Wasn't the first nor the last time…I also beat up an Austrian and a Frenchie. The Polish guy didn't fare too well either. My worst fights were with that stupid Hungarian though…"

The other man simply listened with mouth agape as Prussia recounted his past battles as vaguely as possible.

"So," Bastian said loudly, "There is a twenty mile trail that goes through this forest and ends back here. Start running and you better not stop until you get back."

Any groans that were made were drowned out as Bastian blew a whistle. The recruits started their trek through the cold and rain.

* * *

><p>It had been over an hour since they began and the group wasn't even halfway done with their run. The rain didn't help either, making the ground muddy and slippery. The recruits were dirty and cold and soaked to the bone…<p>

Not that Prussia minded…

None of the other hopeful Neo-Nazis could figure out how the guy not only ran at a steady pace this whole time, but could smile and sing the national anthem at the top of his lungs without sounding tired.

"Suck it up, losers!" Prussia yelled at the straggling recruits, "You'll never be cut out for war at this rate!"

"Who…said…we're going…to war?" one recruit gasped.

"Anytime you join a group that kills people, you're going to war!" Prussia replied.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Bastian looked up to see a single man in a soaked shirt and jeans, running towards him.<p>

"Hey there!" Prussia greeted breathing a little heavily but not too hard for someone who ran twenty miles, "Give the others about twenty minutes, they'll show up!"

"You're something else, Beilschmidt," Bastian said, "You're one hell of a German…"

"…That I am…"

* * *

><p>After an hour of rest, the recruits were given easier, basic training to finish up the afternoon. Twenty rounds on the monkey bars, fifty sets of jumping jacks, forty sit ups and fifty pushups.<p>

Another senior Neo-Nazi looked over to see Prussia sitting casually on the grass. He marched up to him, ready to chew him out.

"What do you think you're **doing**, Beilschmidt?" he yelled, "You get down and do those pushups!"

"I did them…"

"When?"

"About ten minutes ago. The awesome me can handle fifty little pushups!"

"Oh really…? Well, maybe the awesome you would like to do _another fifty_ right now?"

"Sure!"

To the man's surprise, Prussia got down and proceeded to do fifty quick but complete pushups right before his eyes.

"Nice job," he said, a little pissed that he had actually done it, "Now how about _another fifty_, with one hand?"

Prussia shrugged and proceeded to do just that.

"Other hand!" the man yelled, causing Prussia to rapidly switch arms.

"Okay, you," the man growled, "Let's see you do the on your fingertips…"

Prussia growled and the man finally thought he got him when Prussia actually started doing the pushups on his fingertips, albeit at a much slower rate than he had been doing the other pushups.

"What _**can't**_ you do, Beilschmidt?" the man asked as Prussia got up.

"Go another day without beer," he responded, only to get a laugh, "…No, seriously. If I don't get some booze in me in the next twenty four hours, I'll go through withdrawal…"

"After that performance, I'll get you a six pack right now…"

* * *

><p>"Okay people!" Bastian yelled, "You got a glimpse of the basic training we will put you through in this organization. Today you'll do some quick practice with guns after another twenty mile run, and then we'll do some hand to hand sparring! Sound good? Then, move out!"<p>

The recruits set off on another run through hell. At least it was sunny today…

"I bet today's the day you fail, Beilschmidt!" one of the recruits said to Prussia, "I'd _love_ to see what your scrawny arms can do in a hand to hand fight!"

"Well, when I beat you senseless, you'll see!" Prussia said cheerfully as he ran even faster than he did yesterday.

Once again, he was the first one back, earning him the admiration and respect of the senior Neo-Nazi members.

* * *

><p>"Alright, that's how you use your guns!" Bastian yelled after having demonstrated proper rifle use, "Now, all of you at least try to <em>hit<em> the targets."

This was the moment that Bastian usually lost people. After all, a lot of the kids who wanted to join his quest to further the master race had never properly shot before. Hell, some of them had never even _held_ a gun.

Bastian could already see many of the recruits having trouble, the biggest trouble being the recoil. He sighed but looked past to see how that Beilschmidt guy was holding up. He was smaller than the others so he was probably having issues.

Lo and behold, Bastian was impressed again. Beilschmidt had perfect posture, was holding the gun at the right angle and was handling the recoil as though it didn't exist. Bastian was even more amazed that each shot was hitting the target square in a vital spot.

It was as though the man had years of training as a soldier or something.

"Quit showing off, Beilschmidt!" the same recruit from earlier said after Prussia had scored another hit.

"Kesesesese! Sorry!" Prussia said, "But I can't just hold back! Old Man Fritz would never forgive me if I went soft!"

"I can't believe you're a good shot too!" the recruit complained, briefly wondering who Old Man Fritz was.

"Of course I am!" Prussia replied, "Why else would that little runt have hired me to train him properly? How he had managed against that British guy before I came and taught him the art of awesomeness is a mystery…"

Needless to say, the recruit had no idea what he was talking about…

* * *

><p>As the day wound down, an area was set up for the sparring matches.<p>

"Alright, Hoffman!" Bastian said as a tall brunette entered the area, "You get to open up the matches against Beilschmidt, who has never ceased to amaze me once since showing up!"

"You're gonna make me blush!" Prussia said cockily as he entered the area, "Don't worry, Hoffman…It's not a failure to fall before the mighty Pr-Gilbert Beilschmidt! It's a certainty."

Hoffman growled at Prussia's arrogance. Bastian counted down from ten to start the match. Hoffman cracked his knuckles while Prussia seemed to hold himself casually.

However, any trained soldier could tell that, despite how easily he carried himself, Prussia was in the perfect position to strike.

He was a trained warrior after all.

"Three…two…one…Fight!" Bastian yelled.

Hoffman took two steps before Prussia delivered a swift punch to the stomach. Hoffman collapsed into the fetal position, moaning about the pain.

_Just like that SS bastard before him_…Prussia thought as Hoffman was taken away.

"Next up?" he said with a smirk.

* * *

><p>One after the other, after the other, after the other…<p>

To say Prussia owned his fights was an understatement. He was killing it!

All Prussia needed to do was throw one or two well-placed punches, maybe dodge a couple shots, and victory was his. He quickly went through all of his fellow recruits.

Prussia then requested fights with the senior Neo-Nazi members. At first, they laughed. After all, they were all experienced fighters with a few years of training under their belts. However, at Prussia's insistence, they accepted.

These fights lasted a little longer, since Prussia's opponents were more skilled in combat.

But _they_ didn't have centuries of experience with war…

No one could believe it when Prussia was dominating the senior members. The guy was smaller, skinnier…But, as he had been showing over the entire week-end, Prussia was a man of many talents.

The smile on his face never faltered as he took down each fighter. Prussia could feel it…After so many years, he felt it again! The rush of battle! The thrill of besting your opponent!

For one moment, he was the Kingdom of Prussia again!

"That was a blast!" Prussia said as he defeated a particularly beefy guy. He looked over to see Bastian, the only one left, watching him in shock, "Well…?"

"I don't know where you get your skills from, Beilschmidt," Bastian said as he entered the ring, "But don't think I'm leaving you undefeated…"

Prussia laughed and got into a more serious stance. This guy was the leader of this group of Neo-Nazis, so he must have more skills than the rest.

"Three…two…one…FIGHT!" someone shouted.

Bastian ran at Prussia and threw the first punch, which Prussia blocked with his hand. The punch stung a little. Bastian quickly responded to the block with a side kick, which Prussia stopped with his free arm. He shoved Bastian onto the ground. Before he could do anything else, Bastian rolled back to his feet.

Prussia chose to go on the assault and shot ten jabs in quick succession. Bastian was able to block the first four before being hit by the remaining. To his credit, he didn't go down. Instead, Bastian took the opportunity to throw an uppercut, which made contact.

Prussia stumbled back and rubbed his jaw.

"Huh, that actually hurt…" he said, "Oh well, no more holding back, I'm getting bored."

With impressive agility, Prussia maneuvered himself behind Bastian, who was still recovering from the jabs. Suddenly, Prussia put the man in a headlock.

"Scheiße!" Bastian groaned as Prussia tightened his grip.

"Don't struggle, now," Prussia said gleefully, "My little bruder couldn't escape my headlocks so don't think you will! Kesesesese!"

Prussia grabbed Bastian's shoulder and, in less than five seconds, flipped the man onto his back and slammed him into the ground.

Bastian didn't get up, having had all the wind knocked out of him. Prussia stepped back and put his hands in his pockets, waiting…

Claps…A person was clapping…Then, another…Another…Another…

Prussia looked around as the entire group of Neo-Nazis, even the recruits who were jealous of him, were applauding and cheering. Bastian, having finally got his breath back, sat up and joined in on the applause.

"Fantastic!" he yelled, "I have never met anyone as skilled as you, Beilschmidt! You are incredible! Welcome to the Neo-Nazis!"

"Thanks, but no thanks…"

The cheering stopped and everyone looked puzzled at the refusal. Prussia chuckled and removed his colored contacts.

Bastian felt his stomach drop as he stared into those piercing red eyes.

"Thanks for the fun!" Prussia said with a wicked smirk, "If you'll excuse me, this _Prussian_ is gonna grab his stuff and go…"

Prussia turned and headed off casually towards the cabins.

"G-GET THAT BASTARD!" Bastian yelled furiously.

Prussia laughed as he started to run.

* * *

><p>"Kesesesese! Those guys should've known they couldn't catch me!"<p>

Prussia walked casually, swinging his bag. Suddenly, he felt a little weight on his head. He reached up and felt something small and soft.

"Hey there!" he said as his bird jumped into his hand, "Did you see how freakin' _**awesome**_ I was these past couple of days?"

The bird chirped and jumped about in his palm.

"That'll teach those guys to mock the mighty Prussia!"

* * *

><p>"I am not condoning violence," Germany said when Prussia had come out of the bathroom after washing out the blonde hair dye, "But wouldn't it have been easier if you had fought them from the get go? You didn't have to go through the trouble of disguising yourself, Bruder…"<p>

"Man, you don't get it, do you, West?" Prussia replied, "Beating those guys up is nothing…Getting them to compliment you, recognize your abilities and _**then**_ beating them up; that's the ultimate revenge! Kesesesese!"

Germany rolled his eyes but had to admit, his brother's plan had gone better far better than he had expected.

As Prussia dried off his hair, he looked into a nearby mirror.

White hair and red eyes…Not normal…Not normal at all…

"But I'm still awesomely sexy!" Prussia said with a grin.

* * *

><p>It was obvious…With the way he looked, Prussia was bound to be looked down upon in the future, just like he had been in the past. People would doubt him, the personification of a dissolved nation.<p>

But it didn't matter…Prussia knew who he was…

He was the monastic state of the Teutonic Knights, the Duchy of Prussia, Brandenburg-Prussia, the great Kingdom of Prussia, the Free State of Prussia.

He was partitioned to Poland, dissolved by the Allies, given to Russia…

His government was destroyed by the Nazi Party…

He was separated from his brother by the Berlin Wall…

He had white hair and red eyes.

He was a lazy, good-for-nothing who lived in his brother's basement.

But, more than anything, he was the awesome and mighty nation of Prussia, founded on the backs of warriors and renowned for battle.

Anyone or anything that said otherwise could shove it.

* * *

><p>And…done! Man, this was way, way, way, way longer than I had expected. Alright, I started this story on January 11th at 11:30 AM. It is now… (Looks at clock)…12:45 PM on January 12th…<p>

I have no life…

I am far too tired to explain the historical stuff mentioned in the story so I would recommend people who are interested look this up themselves. I only did some research on Neo-Nazis because, after seven hours of looking up info on Nazis and Hitler, I was getting really depressed…The whole camp thing is my own invention but the thing about the Prussian flag and that fire on the house of the Turkish family is true.

Also, I have always sucked at writing fight scenes so it's natural that the battle between Bastian and Prussia sucked and I apologize.

Anyways, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE read and review the story! Thanks!


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